


You Are Cordially Invited to the Wedding of the Century

by Shuriken_to_the_Face



Series: You Are Cordially Invited... [1]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Courtship, F/M, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Romantic Comedy, Wooing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-10 17:57:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5595535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shuriken_to_the_Face/pseuds/Shuriken_to_the_Face
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kylo Ren was ready to admit that his secret feelings for General Hux were not going to magically disappear any time soon. And that was okay. Hux wasn't going anywhere and neither was he.</p>
<p>Until Admiral Hux (the General's indomitable mother) takes it upon herself to ensure the survival of her lineage...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Admiral Hux's Announcement

I maintain we have absolutely no control over which ships we sail…

…so enjoy the following EPIC tale of Kylux romance!

**Chapter 1**

**Admiral Hux’s Announcement**

 

Turns out that, in terms of Kylo Ren’s training (or indeed, Kylo Ren in general), there was only so much Supreme Leader Snoke could put up with before he found himself in holo-conference with General Hux ordering the commander to return with the _Finalizer_ , pick up Ren, and “fuck off to the furthest planetary base you can find for _at least_ the next six months”.

That was the series of events that found Kylo Ren back on board the _Finalizer_ which was itself orbiting Dogar-10 ‒ a small, very boring, ice-moon on the very outer reaches of First Order territory ‒ being glared at by a shivering, wind-swept General Hux who had just returned from overseeing testing of a new water filtration system. It wasn’t often (or ever, really) that the troopers and other personnel stationed at such a far-flung outpost would find themselves visited by the flagship of the First Order, and Hux had found himself inundated with requests to oversee trooper parades, inspect the ice-drilling workings, and dine formally with every minor officer from Engineering to Sanitation.

And Hux was furious.

“This is all your fault,” he seethed at Kylo Ren as the two stood facing each other in Hanger B-12. Ren hadn’t been invited to the event, not that that would have stopped him if he had really wanted to attend, but to be honest water filtration wasn’t really something he was interested in. Instead he had waited until the General was en route to the Finalizer before wandering down to the hanger bay to meet him. Ren’s excuse was that now the two of them had been effectively banished for the foreseeable future to what must be the most pointless corner of the galaxy, there was very little to be had in the way of amusement that didn’t involve driving Hux up the wall.

Kylo had planned to show up mainly to antagonise the General, and normally would have been prepared for some sort of enjoyably nasty verbal sparring match, but the sight of Hux wearing a white great-coat with plush Guntag fur hood was distracting.

“Um…” Kylo managed. Hux scoffed at him with a sneer before pushing past Ren and marching off with his small complement of officers towards the bridge, leaving Kylo standing alone in the hanger like an Academy newbie with a crush.

 

* * *

 

Kylo was quick to return to his quarters, pulling his helmet off as soon as he was safely behind locked doors. He threw the helmet across the room in frustration – he had been doing _so well_ lately! And then stupid Hux had to look _so good_ today! Damnit! He had been sure that as his training with Snoke progressed the annoyingly deep feelings he had for his co-commander would be snuffed out of existence! _That_ was what he wanted – to be free of this childish attraction. After all, Hux would never in a thousand years return his feelings, even if they were in a position where they could actually act upon them without bringing down the wrath of the Supreme Leader.    

Kylo huffed out a forlorn sigh as he collapsed back on his bed doing the perfect impression of a schoolboy in love. He stayed there staring at the ceiling until it was getting on for 1900 Imperial when he received an urgent notification that all senior officers must report to HoloConference Room 2.

 

* * *

Phasma was there already, as were all of the others. Well, good. Kylo always did like to be the centre of attention when he entered the room. Except this time he wasn’t, despite the way he swept, cloaked and masked, into the gathering. Only Phasma bothered to give him the most cursory of glances. Everyone instead kept their eyes trained on their general. Hux stood to the right of the holo-projector, looking as crisply put together as always. Nothing out of the ordinary there. But Kylo did a double take when he noticed the General actually seemed to be minutely trembling. More than that – even in the blue-tinged light of the holo-projector – he looked like he was about to vomit. Hux didn’t even look up from where his gaze was trained on the floor when Kylo passed a little too close to him on his way to the seat next to Phasma. He tentatively reached out with the Force as he brushed passed Hux then instantly retreated when he came up against a swirling torrent of negative emotion.

Normally, whenever Kylo Ren looked into Hux’s head everything was laid out in the form of a very efficient flow chart that made him ridiculously easy to read. He didn’t invade the general’s thoughts often, but on rare occasions when he was at his weakest, Kylo couldn’t help but to try to glean whether or not the general had even the slightest inclination to finding him anything other than an incompetent hindrance. Just sometimes Kylo desperately needed to know whether, in another time or another place, he would _ever_ have had a chance at happiness with General Hux. Unfortunately for Kylo Ren, Hux’s true emotions, opinions and feelings were buried deep beneath troop drill schedules, weapon designs, memorised speeches and other crap that would’ve been better served saved to a data tab.

Phasma nudged him as he sat down and inclined her helmeted head toward the ludicrously oversized bottle of chilled vintage Vindaclovian champagne. Kylo gave her a quick look which even though he too was masked still managed to convey “What the fuck”. Nothing about Hux’s expression nor the atmosphere of the room at large screamed “ _IT’S PARTY TIME!!!!”_ The look she returned perfectly conveyed “I don’t know, but I’m missing leg day sitting here”.

A few moments later the holo-projector flashed to life and the indomitable form of Admiral Hux appeared. She had a face that would best be described as ‘striking’ – all cheekbones and long, narrow skull. The kind of eyes that always seemed to regard you as if you were dirt on her boot, and grey hair pulled back into a severe bun. Not pretty, nor handsome even, but certainly _striking._

“Gentlemen,” she began her address. The seven female officers in the room – Phasma included – looked between each other in silent solidarity. Admiral Hux was the type of woman who abhorred the existence of any female in the military that was not herself. Other women she found – for want of a better word – _lacking._ “I have most joyous news to relay concerning my son – your General. With the blessing of our Supreme Leader, General Hux is now betrothed. The wedding will take place two months from now at our base on Tenga. Our people have not witnessed such a union between two of the oldest families of the Imperium for almost a hundred years. I invite you all – as my son’s most trusted officers – to the wedding of the century. Let us toast the announcement of this wonderful news.”

The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop. Shocked faces seated around the conference table looked to one another for confirmation of what they had just heard. The Admiral looked expectantly at the gathered officers, waiting for one to take the initiative and open the champagne. Instead, she got to witness an irate Kylo Ren throw his chair across the room and Force-fling the champagne against the wall before storming out of the room. Admiral Hux seemed un-phased by the outburst, as if she was ignoring a petulant child. Eventually, Flight Commander Chash raised his empty, cracked champagne flute and led the customary “hip, hip, huzzahs!” With a final salute Admiral Hux signed off.

To Phasma, General Hux seemed oblivious to what had just happened, eyes still fixed firmly on the ground. He hadn’t even flinched at Ren’s display of temper. It was as if he was miles away, or suddenly a spectator looking in at his life rather than being the one to experience it. It was a bit pitiful, really. She took it upon herself to shoo the remaining officers out of the room to give the General some privacy. A couple had mumbled a sombre “congratulations” to Hux on their way out which were not acknowledged.

 


	2. Earlier that day...

Hi again! Just a quick heads up that I changed the title of the fic to what it _should_ be! That’s what I get for uploading a fic after drinking two bottles of wine!

And thank you so much for the comments and kudos’!

 

**Chapter 2**

**Earlier that day…**

Hux stalked straight to his quarters after his strange encounter with Ren in the hanger, desperate to get into a fresh uniform that didn’t feel as if it had been tailored from a sheet of ice. His thoughts turned to his “ _co-commander_ ” as he was pulling on a dry pair of boots. Hux had always been able to read Kylo Ren like an open book, whether or not he chose to hide his expressions behind that ridiculous mask. Since their temporary banishment, however, he had found himself at a loss. Though temperamental and quite frankly migraine-inducing to deal with, Hux had always found Ren predictable. He had Good Days and Bad Days, and Hux could almost set his watch by them. And his not infrequent temper tantrums had been beginning to become as endearing as they were annoying.

Recently though, Ren had been all over the place and Hux found it unsettling. The Leader of the Knights of Ren seemed to always be hovering at his periphery. He still didn’t make himself useful, that was for sure, but Hux was constantly _aware_ of the other in ways he had never been before. Ren was unpredictable and just generally _there_ in Hux’s space. There was no point dwelling on it, Hux shook his head to himself. No doubt Kylo Ren would be back to his usual self soon enough.

 

* * *

After a quick stop at the Officer’s Canteen Hux was back on the bridge by early afternoon Imperial time. It had been four weeks since the _Finalizer_ had set course to their current orbit, and the boredom of routine duty was well and truly beginning to set in. The General sighed as he looked around the officers on the bridge. They really were an exceptional crew – something he took care to remind them of regularly – and completely wasted out here. As was the flagship of the fleet. Not that it mattered. Snoke wanted Kylo Ren as far away as possible, and with the Resistance currently not a viable threat to the First Order destroyer fleet, the Supreme Leader could afford to punish his protégé (and by extension, Hux).

“Try to think of it as a holiday, Sir,” piped up Tech Colonel Dex from her command console when she noticed the General’s brooding expression.

“Worst. Holiday. Ever,” offered Senior Flight Lieutenant Kesnivv. “Do you know what I’ve been doing all shift for fun?” He continued as he held up his data pad. The screen showed two columns: one labelled “GREEN” and the other “RED”. “I’ve been counting how many times in an hour that little notification light-ˮ he waved the pad in the vague direction of the Communications Console “-flashes green compared to red. I don’t even know what the damn thing means but it’s all I’ve been able to focus on for the last SEVEN HOURS.”

Hux took a deep breath and began to massage his temples.

“Well you’re just a boring bore _,_ Lieutenant,” Dex offered in return, somehow the woman was always annoyingly perky.

Kesnivv scoffed and turned his full attention back to the light on the Communications Console. It was currently green. “Seriously, if something doesn’t happen soon I’m going to eat my own fucking feet just for something to do…” he mumbled.

The migraine Hux had been feeling coming on since setting foot on that damn ice block of a moon that morning was just beginning to set in when Lieutenant Zukka called over from Communications,

“Coded communication, General. Addressed to you. Signature says it’s from the Admiral’s personal line.”

“Patch to my screen, Lieutenant.” That was all he needed. Not only did he have a crew where some were apparently on the verge of self-cannibalisation, Snoke pissed at him by proxy, a malfunctioning heat exchanger that left his quarters either cold as a tauntaun’s left nut or hot as the surface of the sun, and Kylo Ren being _unpredictable,_ now his mother wanted to talk to him.

The screen in front of his command chair flashed up with a written message scrambled for privacy. “Decode message, authorisation: H.U.X. 31572349.”

“Stand by for retinal scan,” the computer replied in its calming, female voice. “Scan complete: HUX, General. Advise: Message will be deleted upon reading”.

“Understood.”

The message was short and brutally to the point:

_General,_

_I hope this message finds you tolerably well._

_As you are no doubt aware the coming year will mark the 30th of your existence. After some discussion with my staff I have come to the decision that the occasion must be marked. As such, I have taken the time to negotiate on your behalf a marriage contract. The match has been approved by the Supreme Leader himself._

_The ceremony will take place two months from now at our family villa at our base on Tenga._

_Gather your staff for an official announcement at 1900 hours via holoconference._

_Regards,_

_Admiral Matma Hux, MTS, VGC, MtDP (your mother)_

Hux had time to read the message once fully before the “DELETED” message flashed up on the screen. He sat back in his chair and vaguely thought that this must be what being in shock feels like – as if he was a bystander, or having an out of body experience. Everything felt so surreally _real_ , but at the same time like a horrible dream. Hux must’ve been sitting there like that for quite a while, as the next thing he knew Dex was at his elbow looking very concerned. He could feel the eyes of the other bridge officers on him.

“Sir? Are you quite alright, Sir?”

Hux gaped for a moment, unsure of what the Hell to say, before settling on the horrible truth of the matter. He never had been one to lie to his troops.

“I’m afraid not, Colonel. Now if you’ll excuse me for a moment.”

Hux retreated outside the bridge and allowed the doors to close behind him. He quickly made sure the corridor was deserted, scrunched his hair in his hands, and screamed out “FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” before punching the wall. He allowed himself a few moments to collect himself back together, and for his breathing to return to normal. Then, he re-entered the bridge as if nothing had happened. The room was completely silent as the officers watched him expectantly. Kesnivv was practically vibrating with excitement. He had _never_ seen the General come so undone, not even when Kylo Ren was at his worst. And in public too! This was the kind of thing a bored bridge officer’s dreams were made of!

Hux brushed some invisible dust from his shoulder, smoothed back his hair, and cleared his throat.

“Colonel Dex, inform all senior and bridge officers that there will be an important announcement tonight at 1900 hours sharp in HoloConference Room 2.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to look her in the eye as he gave the order. She saluted a little uncertainly.

“Anything else, General?”

“Get a magnum bottle of the vintage Vindaclovian from the Chief Catering Officer. And twenty one glasses. We have a… _joyous occasion_ …to celebrate.”


	3. We Have a Wedding to Stop!

Can’t thank you dear readers enough for the comments and kudos’, they really make my day!

**Chapter 3**

**We Have a Wedding to Stop!**

Kylo Ren found himself in one of the port side observation rooms once he finally calmed down. He couldn’t remember getting there, but could be pretty sure he had left a trail of destruction behind him. No doubt that would mean that Hux would be along shortly to reprimand him, first for his destructive tendencies, and then for his behaviour back at the holoconference. Hux would demand to know what the Hell _that_ display was all about. And in front of his mother, no less. Really, what could Kylo Ren say? _I’m sorry but I suddenly realised that I have absolutely no hope in gaining your affections,_ or the even more pathetic, _I think I might love you, please don’t leave me_? Both of those options were of course absurd, but he did admit to himself that he should probably at least apologise to Hux. That would be novelty enough.

His heart leapt at the sound of the door to the observation room opening behind him. Instead of the intended “I’m sorry” he blurted “I hate you!”

“NO WAIT THAT’S NOT-ˮ he span round to face Hux, to try to salvage the situation, and instead came face-to-face with the shiny chrome helmet of Captain Phasma, hip canted and arms folded.

 “Well, that would’ve been a disaster.” She crossed the room to take a space on the bench looking out over the stars and lifted off her helmet. Phasma took a lungful of air and closed her eyes as she revelled in the quiet simple pleasure of the air on her face. Once composed she finally looked over to Kylo Ren. “Sit,” she commanded, “and take off the mask”.

Phasma studied him closely as he complied, and once free of his helmet he couldn’t quite find it in himself to look at her. She rolled her eyes and began anyway.

“Hux didn’t send me, if you were wondering. Dealing with you is the last thing on his mind right now.” She took a long swig out of a bottle he hadn’t realised she was carrying. She passed it to Kylo before continuing, waving a hand vaguely in the direction of the outer corridor, “Followed the trail of cowering troopers.”

Kylo took a drink and grimaced, “Did I break your soldiers?”

“Don’t care,” Phasma shrugged, “they were Captain Cryten’s command.” She took another swig. “It’s not too late, you know.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not drunk enough to be having this conversation,” she mumbled. “I know how you feel about the General, and as of twenty minutes ago so does the rest of Command. Subtle, you are not.” She paused, seemed to give her next words some consideration. “Were you ever going to tell him?”

Kylo snatched back the bottle. “No, because I didn’t need to! I was fine with how things were, I didn’t need anything more! I didn’t need his rejection…”

Phasma gave him a long look, “Are you serious? You realise you are the only one who can get any real reaction out if the General, right? Yes, he’s scared of his mother, as are most men of course, and pleasing the Supreme Leader instils an immense sense of pride in him. But _you_ are the only one who genuinely makes him feel with any sort of passion.”

That was likely true, Kylo would concede, “A passionate hate.”

Phasma took the bottle back, “Isn’t that what you’re all about? Passion leads to anger leads to hate leads to questionable decisions – or whatever the Hell that code you follow is.” She took a drink, “But consider this: Have you ever given him any reason to feel a passionate anything _else_ towards you?”

Kylo frowned, “What are you suggesting?”

Phasma looked up at the ceiling in exasperation, “Man alive, Ren! I’m _suggesting_ you woo him! Give him enough of a reason to damn well say no to his mother! He won’t do it for himself, he’ll go along with whatever she wants – but he might do it for _you._ ”

“Why do you care, anyway? I refuse to humiliate myself for whatever plan for self-advancement you have swirling around your empty shiny head!” Kylo wrestled the bottle off her.

“I CARE BECAUSE I LIKE IT HERE! I LIKE IT ABOARD THE _FINALIZER_! I LIKE THE GENERAL! SOMETIMES I EVEN LIKE YOU!” She grabbed him by the shoulders, “Do you know where I used to be stationed, Ren? Ryslev-8.”

Kylo grimaced.

“I am NOT going to stand by while Admiral Hux destroys the best home I have ever had!”

 Kylo sat a few moments in silence turning over and over in his head Phasma’s words. He downed the rest of the bottle. “I…I’ll need your help, Phasma. I’ve never…um…”

She gave him a flat look, “That is _blatantly_ obvious. But whatever you need, Lord Ren.”

Kylo’s breath caught when she gave him a sincere smile and pulled him into a hug. “We have a wedding to stop,” she said.

* * *

 

There was an air of excited energy on the bridge as unfortunately those officers called down to attend the announcement had to then return to their shift. It was almost impossible to focus on actual work after the Admiral’s bombshell and Kylo Ren’s fit of rage, and the atmosphere had dissolved into one of gossip and speculation. The General hadn’t returned, and Colonel Dex now sat in the command chair as senior officer present. A few feet away Kesnivv was replaying the event with Navigation Officer Gradnax and Weapons Master Wenger.

Dex didn’t bother to reprimand them – there was no point. The announcement and subsequent shenanigans had turned the whole _Finalizer_ command chain into a farce anyway, and no doubt the news was now spreading through the troopers, pilots, and auxiliary staff like wild fire. Life on board a Star Destroyer was an incestuous affair anyway, where the main pastime was trading in gossip and scandal.

“Do you think the General is okay?” Dex asked allowed to the nearest officers during a lull in their conversation.

Kesnivv snorted, “Who cares? All I know is that this is hilarious!”

Dex tutted when Gradnax high-fived the Flight Lieutenant.

“I care!” She snapped. “I like General Hux, and I like serving on his staff. Do you know where I was stationed before this posting? Ryslev-8.”

Kesnivv grimaced. “Look, I’m not saying I don’t _like_ the General, I just don’t see what the big deal is. The Admiral negotiated his marriage to some probably young, rich as a Hutt, smoking hot girl. So what?”

“That’s not the point, though,” Communications Officer Zukka spoke up from her console. “He obviously isn’t happy with the arrangement, he looked the whole time like he was going to throw up all over the table. Don’t you have any sense of loyalty?”

Dex turned in her chair to face Zukka, “Exactly!” She stood from the command console, “This wedding is in nobody’s best interests: Not the General’s, and not ours.  If General Hux is preoccupied with a wedding he doesn’t even want to go through with, who do you think will have to deal with Kylo Ren?!” She looked around the assembled officers whose full attention she now held, “Us! We _have_ to stop it. Computer, where is General Hux now?”

“Colonel Dex, the General is in his quarters.”

“Zukka, you have the bridge.”

“Hey, I’m senior officer after you! You can’t ignore the command chain!” Kesvivv spluttered.

“Well you’ve perfectly demonstrated you can’t act within the best interests of the ship!”

“Nice!” Zukka high-fived Dex as she took up command position.

“ _Gentlemen,_ ” Dex addressed the bridge officers, parodying the Admiral, “we have a wedding to stop.”

 

* * *

 

Whatever Dex was expecting when she pressed the vidcom on the door to Hux’s quarters, it wasn’t for the General to slam the door open and rage “WHAT THE HELL WAS-ˮ before realising who it actually was at his door. “Oh. Colonel Dex. Sorry, I thought you were someone else.” The General cleared his throat and stood straight, hands behind his back. “What can I do for you?”

Dex had been momentarily caught off guard not only by the General’s outburst, but also by his dishevelled appearance. His hair was mussed up as if he’d had his head in his hands, and his jacket was off, leaving him in a black sleeveless vest and regulation grey combats. He looked tired too, resigned. Numb, if she thought about it.

“Um, you didn’t return to the bridge after the…um…announcement, Sir. I just wanted to ask…forgive me, but…are you okay, Sir?”

He seemed taken aback by his officer’s obvious concern, as if it hadn’t even occurred to him that anyone would care. “I’m fine, Dex. Thank you.”

“Right, but…You don’t have to answer, Sir, but I…well some of us…we wanted to know…Do you want to get married, because it really doesn’t look like you do?”

For a moment it looked to Dex as if she was about to be called out on insubordination charges. Instead, Hux just sighed and rubbed at the bridge of his nose before standing aside to let the Colonel into his quarters. “Come in, there’s a bottle of Karvian whiskey around here somewhere. And no, Colonel, I _really_ don’t.”

 


	4. The Power of Friendship

Massive apologies about the delay in getting this update out – I’ve been on night shift so my prime writing time disappeared! Back to days now so regular updates have resumed. I’ll give a heads up next time if my shift switches again!

Thank you so much for the comments and kudos'!

**Chapter 4**

**The Power of Friendship**

Dex wasn’t sure what she had been expecting when she had been invited into the General’s quarters. She had had after all no prior desire nor need to give the question any thought. But it certainly was not that the premier General of the First Order would be housed in a standard superior officer’s suite. The layout of the suite was identical to her own from what she could see: a generous ante-room beyond the entrance in which to receive callers; a large open-plan reception room with enough space to provide separate formal and informal sitting areas; an archway leading to a formal dining room large enough to seat fourteen guests (a requirement of all senior officer’s rooms, however seldom they were used), and double doors that would lead to the bedroom and bathroom suite. The sitting area was even equipped with the same holo-fire feature designed, Dex supposed, to provide the officer quarters with some feeling of cosiness.

The only difference Dex could see, and which immediately drew the eye, was the viewport. Dex’s own was modestly sized, but large enough to provide a decent view of the stars beyond. Not always particularly awe-inspiring, but a welcome feature whenever the _Finalizer_ was in orbit, or passing through interesting space phenomena. In the General’s rooms the entire portside was one huge floor to ceiling viewport providing a widescreen vista. Dex of course was no stranger to large viewports – she was after all a bridge officer – but to see such a marvel in an otherwise domestic, warm, _quiet_ setting was quite frankly stunning. She couldn’t help the small “wow…” that passed her lips.

“An addition of my own specification. Please sit, Colonel,” Hux gestured to one of two leather tub chairs set by a low table and positioned close to the viewport to take in the stars uninterrupted.   

While the General collected a couple of cut Iridonian crystal tumblers and a bottle of _very_ expensive Karvian whiskey from the drinks cabinet in the corner of the room Dex was allowed a few moments to wonder how in the twelve Hells she had gone from professional, career driven Bridge Officer to being offered a drink in the General’s private quarters in less than twelve hours. Looking back on the events of the day, bizarre didn’t even _begin_ to cover it.

The General placed their glasses on the table and poured two generous measures, leaving the bottle on the table. They took the customary toast to the Order  ̶  required of all of all officers in a social setting – and drank.

“I confess, Colonel, I was surprised to find you outside of my quarters. I had thought… well. I had thought that maybe Lord Ren had come to apologise for his earlier outburst. But of course it was stupid of me to think such a thing. The Admiral will not have been amused.”   

Dex recognised the unasked question: _why are you here?_ There was no anger in it – just a guarded curiosity.

“Sir, when you didn’t come back to the bridge after the…announcement…we were worried. It isn’t like you to not be on the bridge when you’re on duty, Sir.” She took a deep breath before continuing. Despite the presence of the whiskey on the table she was afraid of over-stepping the mark. Dex, however, had never been one to shy from the truth. “I thought that maybe you would need someone to talk to. A friend.”

The General looked startled. “A friend, Colonel?” He said the words like the concept of such a relationship was completely foreign. _No,_ Dex thought, _He understands the_ idea _of friendship._ And then the realisation, _But he’s never experienced it._

Dex was aware that this could be about to go horribly wrong, but pressed on regardless, as if in the last few moments alone she understood what it was that saw her turn up unannounced to the General’s quarters.

“Yes, Sir. I’d like to be your friend, Sir. But only if that would be agreeable! If not, I apologise profusely for my presumption.  I will never over-step in this manner again. I just…I’d like to help you, in any way I can, Sir.”

The General seemed to find the tumbler of whiskey held loosely in his hands very interesting as he sat in silence, playing Dex’s words over. The Colonel herself sat rigid, sure she was about to be sent for re-education. _Finally_ the General placed his glass on the table and looked at the officer with an unsure but genuine smile. Dex was sure it was an expression she had never seen on her superior before.

“I think, Colonel, that I would like a friend very much.”

Dex positively beemed. “Call me Dex, Sir. Or Kenga, if you’d prefer.”

The General refilled both of their glasses. “Then in such settings, Kenga, you may call me Brendol.”

* * *

 

It was two hours and three-quarters of the bottle later before Hux began to open up about the events of the day. Or, more specifically, his mother.

“I remember it vividly, the day I met the Admiral. I was five years old.” He sounded almost wistful.  

“You…you met your mother? When you were five?”

Brendol puffed up a little in defence of the woman. “The Admiral was incredibly busy at the time, of course she couldn’t be expected to carry a child to term. My parents provided the necessary genetic data to the Empire’s premier coding facility. It was all highly efficient.”

“Right…” _This whole situation has suddenly become way more understandable,_ Dex thought. Genetically engineering your progeny in a laboratory wasn’t _uncommon_ as such. In fact it had proven a very popular method within the upper echelons of Imperial society. It was the **five years old** thing that had shocked her. With a sense of morbid fascination Kenga pressed on. “What happened? When you finally met?”

“I saluted her, as I had been taught. She shook my hand and then presented me with a trunk stamped with my initials. Then she said ‘Your shuttle to the Academy will leave in two hours. I expect monthly reports on your progress. Give my regards to your father.’ She left after that.” Brendol looked down at his glass and swirled the liquid around. “Ever since then I’ve been trying to live up to her expectations of the perfect son. This wedding – regardless of my own feelings on the matter – is another opportunity for me to prove I’m worthy of one day leading the Hux dynasty. Whoever my intended is, the match will be politically advantageous for us.”

To Kenga, her General ( _friend_ ) sounded completely and utterly resigned to the fact that he was getting married and there was nothing to be done about it. Feeling heady from the alcohol she broached the subject directly,

“Is it certain? There is nothing that can be done? Could the Admiral perhaps be persuaded to call off the engagement and allow you to find a partner of your own choosing?”

Hux snorted into his drink. “It has always been her intention to marry me off to secure our family’s position financially. We may have the name but we don’t have the money to back it up anymore. And if she allowed me to choose my own partner? Well, she would be disappointed.” Hux looked at her then. “And besides, I’m afraid I would make any woman a very poor husband.” He gave her a small smile. “Give me a few days, Kenga, and I’ll be back to my old self. Today had been jarring to say the least, but the shock will subside. Perhaps after another bottle of whiskey and a shouting match with Ren, wherever the Hells he’s hiding.”

Dex stifled a yawn and checked her chrono-display. She quickly downed the last of her drink, quite shocked at the time! “It’s getting late, Sir – Brendol – I should be getting back to my quarters. Shall I expect you on the Bridge in the morning?”

“I’ll be there. Thank you, Kenga.” He gave her a sloppy salute from where he was slouched in his chair which she returned.

“See you in the morning, Sir. I’ll see myself out.”

* * *

 

Captain Phasma ran a hand through her cropped blonde hair and blew out a puff of air in frustration. Seven hours she had been sat at the table in Conference Room 5 with Kylo Ren opposite and a blank data pad between them. Their intention had been to utilise everything in their combined strategic arsenal to develop The Plan that Kylo would use to woo the General. All that they had accomplished, however, was prove that they were absolutely the wrong people for the job.

Ren had of course admitted his woeful lack of experience in any and all things romantic (or even generally _friendly_ ), and he had been relying completely on Phasma. She on the other hand, approached her sexual conquests the same way she approached battle: With brutal, capable efficiency. Her rumoured Little Black Datapad was the stuff of Stormtrooper legend – a device containing a list of over four dozen names, each of which could be relied upon to Get The Job Done with a round or two of absolutely fantastic, thoroughly satisfying  sex. Phasma was under no illusion that her database (which did indeed exist) would be any help whatsoever in this scenario. She never wanted to think about the words “Ren”, “Hux” or “Fantastic Sex” in the same sentence ever again.

But it did lead logically to another idea…

Phasma grabbed the datapad and started furiously scribbling with the stylus. Ren perked up with interest at the sight his co-conspirator plotting. It only took a few moments before she presented him with a list of officer names and Stormtrooper designations, a smug smile plastered on her face. The seemingly random list – some of the names he knew – made no real sense to the Knight of Ren.

“I have no idea what I’m looking at,” he admitted.

“I make it my business, Lord Ren, to know what goes on aboard this ship in let’s say _more private_ settings. That is an interview shortlist.” She took back the ‘pad, re-fitted her helmet, and stood with a sense of renewed purpose. “I’ll make the arrangements myself. Meet me here at oh-seven-hundred.” She swept towards the door before pausing. “And that’s oh-seven-hundred _sharp,_ my Lord.”

* * *

 

Kylo had absolutely been avoiding the General since The Announcement. It had been easy, too, Kylo having been sequestered away by Phasma in Conference Room 5. There was no avoiding walking passed the door to Hux’s quarters on the way to his own though, not when as co-commanders they were both housed in the same corridor. Next door to each other, no less. Kylo wasn’t worried. He knew Hux’s schedule by heart, and the General at this hour would be locked away in his rooms. It took him completely by surprise then when the door slid open with a whoosh and a tipsy, flush-faced, young female officer he vaguely recognised stumbled out calling back a whispered “Good night, Brendol!”

Kylo was frozen still in shock. Never had he seen _anyone_ other than the General himself enter or leave these rooms. _Kylo_ hadn’t even seen inside. The Knight Commander snapped back to the situation at hand when the officer – a Colonel, by insignia – finally noticed that she wasn’t alone in the corridor. She snapped to wide-eyed attention. Kylo clenched his fists, resisting the urge to reach out into her mind. To torture himself with visions of what had been going on behind that door between the General and this woman.

Instead Kylo inclined his head a miniscule amount in acknowledgement of her salute before stalking away toward his own quarters. Once inside he threw his helmet across the room and punched a hole in his wall.


	5. It Just Gets Better and Better

**Chapter 5**

**It Just Gets Better and Better**

 

Hux was mercifully, thankfully hangover free when he was roused by his alarm at oh-five-hundred. One of the perks of drinking the expensive stuff. His head felt clear in other ways, too, and his mood only continued to improve after he had showered, eaten breakfast, and dressed in a crisp, clean uniform. It was just as well, now that he had to catch up on all the work he had skipped yesterday. There were 139 messages alone on his datapad that would need his consideration. And he would need to do the morning morale call, especially after missing last night’s. Perhaps he would get that out of the way early.

* * *

 

Phasma looked up in surprise when Kylo Ren stalked into Conference Room 5 15 minutes early. He sat heavily in the chair opposite and snapped off his helmet. Phasma thought he looked very much like an upset, scowling teenager, despite the man being in his late twenties. And she definitely didn’t fail to notice the red puffiness around his eyes.

“Why’ve you been crying?”

“I haven’t!” he huffed, arms folded protectively across his chest. “Pour me some of that sludge. And pass me a plate of those Rodian pastries. Where did you get these, anyway?”

“A ‘please’ wouldn’t be remiss.” She complied anyway. “What’s happened?”

“Why do you think something happened?”

“You look like a bantha pissed in your porridge is all. And you’ve been crying.” She popped a pastry in her mouth.

“I _haven’t_!” She gave him That Look. “Okay, fine!” He threw his hands up in the air. “There’s no point, okay?!”

“No point? In what?”

“In this! In any of this! Hux is getting married! There is nothing we can do to change that! And even if we could his… his heart belongs to another…” Kylo sounded so utterly defeated Phasma actually felt sorry for him.

“Can you hear the words that are coming out of your mouth? What do you mean _his heart belongs to another_?” Gods alive she didn’t get paid enough for this. “Is it Mitaka?”

“What? Last night after I left you I went straight back to my quarters. I saw a drunk, female officer stumble out of his rooms. Young, pretty little thing. _Good night, Brendol,_ she says.”

Phasma gave him a blank look. “And?”

Kylo was outraged. “What do you mean _and_?!”

She shrugged. “I don’t see the problem. So what if he _is_ having sex with the girl? That’s no reason to cancel our plans. It certainly doesn’t mean he’s found his One True Love.”

Kylo looked at her in disbelief. “You didn’t _see_ her!” He was out of his chair now, pacing about the room like a caged rancor. “She is beautiful! Perfectly formed, flawless olive skin, hair like silk spun from Nightingale lilies! Golden eyes like the sunset on a desert planet!” He spat. “ _This…_ ” He gestured to himself, “How can _this_ compete with _that_?!” He was breathing heavily now, pointing in the vague direction of the Bridge.

“Sit. Down.” Phasma commanded. Kylo could barely meet her eyes. “Look at me.” She ended up reaching over and grabbed his chin when he refused. “There is nothing wrong with the way you look, Kylo. _Nothing._ ” It was clear from his expression that he didn’t believe her in the slightest. Phasma sighed and rubbed her brow to stave off the oncoming headache. “Can you do something for me? Please?”

“What?”

“Don’t call off our plan. Give it a month.” Kylo looked dubious. “Please. I can’t guarantee that you won’t get hurt, but can you honestly say that if you did nothing – if Hux goes through with this and marries some minted aristocrat that his mother picked out and that he’s never even met – you wouldn’t regret it for the rest of your life?”

Kylo wished he could confidently say yes – say that he would have no regrets.

“It would destroy me,” he admitted instead.

Phasma grinned and handed him a datapad with a list of officer designations. “Then we have a couple of announcements to make!”

* * *

 

“Night shift sucks,” SR-4379 grumbled as he pushed his way through the crowded Recreation Room on D Deck, trying to find two seats together that had at least a half decent view of the holo-terminal screen. DN-2333 followed close behind, not so much weaving her way deftly through the assembled storm troopers as pushing them out of her path. She had a good six inches on 4379 and was able to steer him towards two vacant bar stools against the far wall.

“Fuck my feet hurt,” 4379 complained after removing his helmet and boots. “Fucking K Deck.”

2333 pulled out her tight ponytail and gave an extremely obscene moan as she ran her fingers through her hair. She took the bottle of Imperial Valour Ale offered by her partner gratefully. “Well we would’ve had a cushy number patrolling Staircase 9 if you hadn’t freaked out.”

“Those stairs are haunted.” The tips of his ears had turned red with embarrassment.

“Don’t be so fucking stupid.”

A loud cheer went up as a recorded image flashed up on the screen and the familiar notes of an opening theme began:

_“And now for the next exciting episode of Days of the Empire…._

_“Takara! Wait!”_

_“No, Varna! Don’t touch me!”_

_“Please! I made a mistake!”_

_“A mistake?! I walked in on you in our bed with my ARCH ENEMY! The very woman who turned traitor to our cause and joined the Rebellion! THE WOMAN WHO ASSASSINATED MY FATHER!”_

“Hang on, VT-1989? Have I missed an episode?!”

_“It’s not what you think! When I was stationed undercover as a Rebellion sympathiser on Naboo I contracted a rare disease that can only be treated through sexual congress with members of the Arkanian species!”_

_“Then, you don’t love her?”_

“Don’t listen to him Takara! That’s a made-up disease!”

_“Never, Takara. Never.”_

_“Oh, Varna!” *Moaning kissy noises*_

_“Wait – there’s something I need to tell you, Varna…”_

“Tell him it was you who murdered his twin brother and framed the clone of the Corellian Ambassador!”

_“My love, anything.”_

_“I am with child.”_

“Oh _shit!”_

“Did not see that coming.”

“Totally called it…”

_“And you aren’t the father…”_

A stunned hush fell over the crowd.

_“I don’t care – tell me you want to be with me and I will raise that child as my own!”_

_“No. It’s not that simple. You see…the father is‒ˮ_

Ding, Dong, DING!

“OH FUCK NO!” TX-7774 launched his Babelberry milkshake at the flickering projection of General Hux.

“BOOOOO! GET OFF THE STAGE!”

“It’s fucking oh-seven-thirty! He fucking knows our programmes are on!”

“ _Faithful members of the First Order, I stand here today a man eager to fulfil his duty to our people. To our very belief system._

_Indeed, it is duty that unites us all, from the lowliest technician to the most Supreme General._

_The loathsome Resistance have no such concept. Their beliefs are born of selfishness and contempt. Their forces comprise of mercenaries and bounty hunters willing to sell their loyalty for the promise of mere credits. Such a vulgar organisation cannot hope to build a legacy._

_That is our right! And if each being on board this ship does their duty, we cannot help but to prevail!_

_Glory to the First Order!”_

The holo-channel automatically switched back to the First Order’s most-watched soap opera.

_“How could you do this to me?! To the Empire?!”_

_“It isn’t what you think, Varna!”_

_“Anyone but HIM I could forgive!”_

_“Varna, please!”_

_“I’m sorry, Takara. This is for the good of the Empire…” *Varna raises his blaster*_

_“Very well, my love. I always knew it would come down to this…” *Varna’s eyes widen in shock as Takara ignites a red lightsabre*_

Ding, Dong, DING!

The helmeted vision of Captain Phasma appeared. TX-7774 let out a scream of rage and launched his helmet across the room.

_“SR-4379 and DN-2333 report to Conference Room 5 immediately. Glory to the Order.”_

When _Days of the Empire_ flashed back on the screen the credits were rolling.

“MOTHERFUCKER!” Was 7774’s last word on the matter.

* * *

 

“Considering the last time ‘Takara’ was killed off but it turned out to be that Dathomirian bounty hunter who’d had plastic surgery to _look_ like her so she could get near enough to Varna to assassinate him at the Grand Imperial Ball.” 4379 reasoned as he and 2333 entered Conference Room 5.

“If they kill off Takara for real I’m not watching anymore.” They both came to an unsure standstill when they noticed the other occupants of the room: A strange mixture of fellow Troopers, a couple of pilots, and some commissioned officers. At the head of the table sat Phasma and Lord Ren. 2333 regained her wits first and offered a salute that Captain Phasma waved off.

“Given the circumstances of this meeting, normal formalities will be suspended,” to illustrate Phasma removed her helmet and set it on the conference table. Ren didn’t follow her example. “Sit. Permission to remove your helmets, Troopers.”

The five Troopers in the room complied though hesitantly.

“Lord Ren and I are in the process of forming a taskforce. One that requires a certain set of qualifications. The purpose of code name: Taskforce Zero-Twelve is of the utmost secrecy and has been classified as such by Lord Ren himself. It involves a matter of incredibly delicacy, and there will be no official record of either the taskforce or its goals. There will be no discussion of the taskforce or its role with anyone who is not currently present in this room. Failure to comply will result in Re-education.” Phasma leant forward, elbows on the table. “You have _all_ been personally selected to join Taskforce Zero-Twelve.”

2333 saluted eagerly. “For the glory of the Order!”

Phasma grinned. “Quite.”

“Captain Phasma?” Flight Commander Tren-Makon raised his hand. “What _is_ the purpose of Taskforce Zero-Twelve?”

There was a palpable shift in atmosphere as the assembled members of the First Order leaned in close, perfectly silent.

Phasma let the tension build as she met the eyes of every single person in that room. Finally, she spoke. “Our mission is to ensure that General Hux falls in love with Lord Ren.”

Mitaka spat his caf out over the table.

* * *

 

Hux settled into the command chair with a satisfied sigh. Everything was going to be okay. Everything _was_ okay: Engines were running at optimal efficiency; the targeting system for the forward ventral cannon had been upgraded; supplies were fully stocked following their rendezvous with the _FOS Implacable_ three days ago; Engineering were working on fixing the glitch with the portside shields, and Ren was MIA somewhere on the ship. Hux nodded to himself. In the grand scheme of things – the glory of the First Order – what price was the personal inconvenience of a loveless, practical marriage? Surely a price he was willing to pay. Hux would endure, for the Greater Good. At the acceptance of the inevitability of the situation the General felt a strange sort of lightness sweep over him that left him feeling almost giddy. Suddenly the tension that had settled in his shoulders at the Admiral’s announcement was gone, replaced with an inner strength: _I will endure._

Really – looking back on it – he should have seen that everything was about to go to Hell.

A warning siren blared from the Navigation console, cutting through the comfortable silence the Bridge Officers had been performing their duties in.

“Sir! An Order Star Destroyer has just jumped out of hyperspace!” The confusion on the Navigation Officer Gradnax’s face was evident. They shouldn’t be encountering any FO vessels when they were still so far from the Inner System. At least, not unless something had gone terribly wrong.

“Are we close enough to pick up their ident, Lieutenant?”

“Vessel is squawking ident of the _FOS Redoubtable_. Sir, according to my charts they should be in orbit around BRV-53769.”

“General! They’re requesting permission to come along side. Comm identifies as Captain Sequis.”

Hux considered for a second, entertaining the idea that this could be elaborate trap. Impossible. There would be no way the Resistance could’ve captured a Star Destroyer and jumped straight to their location – the Resistance may have dealt them a major blow with Starkiller, but their forces had been decimated and scattered. Organa would be licking her wounds for the foreseeable future.

“Permission granted. Open a holo-channel once they’ve come about. Lieutenant Zukka, get Captain Phasma and Kylo Ren up here and set shipwide alert to amber until we know what we’re dealing with.”

“On it, Sir.”

 

* * *

 

 

“ _Captain Phasma and Lord Ren report to the Bridge immediately.”_ At the same time as the announcement several assembled datapads chimed with an amber warning, alerting all officers to report to their stations on standby. Despite the farce of the previous three hours which had consisted of various heated arguments about the intricacies of courtship while Kylo Ren glowered silently behind his mask, the occupants of the room sprang into action. Within seconds Phasma and Ren were on their way to the Bridge: Phasma exuding the calm, well-disciplined aura of a soldier who has complete faith in their training and abilities, and Kylo Ren… not. Internally he was a wound-up ball of adrenaline and nervous energy. There could be no avoiding Hux now, nor the _girl_ he had realised he recognised from the Bridge, if he was to fulfil his duties as a defender of the First Order’s interests. He could do this: Put aside his petty jealousies and his… _inconceivable_ attraction to that ginger idiot. For the glory of the Supreme Leader! _I can do this…_ And there she was. Hux’s…hussy. Tech Colonel Dex, he remembered. An _Engineer._ Sitting at her console, casting _concerned_ glances at the General. It was enough to make you feel nauseous.

Hux was standing facing the viewport, hands clasped behind his back and weight on his right leg leaving his hip canted out slightly. He was framed by the light of the viewport, with the hulking form of the _Redoubtable_ beyond. Ren felt his stomach lurch vision and his heart skip when the General looked back over his shoulder. Hux even did a double-take when he saw Ren standing there. It was all the knight could do to incline his head slightly in acknowledgement. Hux just scowled at him in return before returning his attention back to the viewport.

Kylo hunched his shoulders with a sigh menacingly distorted by his new helmet. Phasma leant into him,

“Cheer up, Ren,” she nodded her head toward the ship alongside their own, “you might have a chance to get your lightsabre out yet.”

* * *

 

“General, I have Captain Sequis on the holo-channel.”

“On screen.” Hux settled into parade rest as the commander of the _Redoubtable_ appeared with a crisp salute. “Captain Sequis your presence in unexpected in this sector. Explain.” Hux noted that even through the less-than-clear holographic image the normally impeccably turned-out Captain looked flustered and harried.

“Apologies General, we received orders from Fleet Command that were to be followed with immediate effect. From Supreme Admiral Hux herself, Sir. I believe it relates to your… impending nuptials. Um… congratulations?”

Hux took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and counted to ten. He suddenly felt very stupid. “Dex, issue a ship-wide command: Stand down from alert. False alarm. Captain Sequis I am _intrigued_ to discover what possible orders relating to my wedding call for you to execute a potentially dangerous manoeuvre outside of a combat situation. You will be aware you dropped out of hyperspace much closer to the _Finalizer_ than recommended as a safe minimum within the Star Destroyer Operations Manual.”

At least Sequis had the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry, Sir. We expedited the delivery.”

Hux narrowed his eyes, “What delivery?”

“A squadron of TIE Fighters and their support vessel.”

If Hux wasn’t already so pale, the colour surely would’ve drained from his face. “ _Which_ squadron?!”

“Er… the hundred-twenty-eighth, Sir.” Sequis had the expression of a man delivering Bad News.

Dex saw the General’s eyes comically widen. He wheeled round and stormed back to the command chair. “CUT OFF COMMS WITH THE _REDOUBTABLE!_ Wenger, what’s the status of the portside shields?”

“Still down, Sir!”

“THEN CHARGE THE PORTSIDE VENTRAL CANNON!”

“General! A TIE Squadron is approaching from the _Redoubtable.”_ She looked over to the General in alarm. “THEY’RE IN ATTACK FORMATION SIR!”

“FIRE A WARNING SHOT!”

“Sir?”

“JUST DO IT!” Wenger flinched but entered the command with a steady hand. Several officers looked at each other. No one had ever seen the General lose it at an officer like that, not even when there had been a reason!

 

* * *

 

The Bridge was in chaos. Normally even under the greatest stresses of battle the _Finalizer_ Bridge was an oasis of calm professionalism – each officer supremely confident in their abilities and those of their comrades. This situation, however, was unprecedented.

Through the viewport Kylo watched the TIE Fighters break formation to avoid the ripples from the warning blast and reform in a complicated defensive manoeuvre. Beside him, Phasma seemed unconcerned with the potential treason going on outside. She reached out and grabbed his wrist in an iron grip when he started to move forward, shaking her head.

“Best not to get involved, my Lord.”

Kylo was edging on furious at Phasma’s attitude to the heinous attack launched by the _Redoubtable._ He snatched his arm back.

“You will stand by and allow this _treachery?!”_

“Treachery?” Phasma snorted. “I’m afraid it’s much worse than that.”

* * *

 

“Sir! The TIE Fighter commander is on the comms, I can’t get an ident read from them. Shall I block comms, Sir?” Zukka called over.

Hux was about to reply in the affirmative when he caught Dex’s eye from across the room. The Colonel was half out of her chair and it was jarring for Hux to realise it was because she was about to go to him. She looked terrified. Terrified for _him_. It was enough to bring him back to his senses. He looked at each of the officers in turn. The confusion and _fear_ was palpable. After all, he had just uncharacteristically ordered the _Finalizer_ to fire on a First Order TIE Squadron. Even if it had been a warning shot. No. For the sack of his crew he would be the bigger man.   _I will endure…_ He pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Open channel. Audio only.”

Hux was the first to speak.

“Take your band of hooligans, get back aboard the _Redoubtable,_ and get as far away from here as possible!”

“ _Can’t be doing that I’m afraid, Huxley. Orders from the Mother. The hundred-twenty-eighth reassigned to the Finalizer.”_

“You are not coming aboard my ship!”

_“Technically Huxley, this is Mother’s ship, what with her being the Supreme Admiral of the Fleet.”_

“HOW DARE YOU?! _I_ AM COMMANDER OF THE FIRST ORDER’S MILITARY FORCES!”

_“Regardless she also told me that your portside shields are inoperable, so I would like you to know that I have twelve pairs of photon cannons locked on your broadside. I wonder how much damage we can do before you manage to take us all out?”_

“You’re bluffing.”

_“Are you sure? Ventral cannons are expensive to repair, I’ve heard…”_

Hux was furious, but realistically there was nothing he could do but allow the squadron to approach. Either that or explain to the Supreme Leader why he had destroyed their most effective and feared Interceptor squadron. He was under no illusion too – regardless of his comment about bluffing – that this particular manic would follow through on his threat to destroy the ventral cannon.

“FINE!” Hux snapped. “HANGER B-SEVEN! ZUKKA, CLOSE COMMS! COLONEL DEX YOU HAVE THE BRIDGE! PHASMA, WITH ME!”

Hux stormed toward the exit of the Bridge. He’d almost forgotten that Kylo Ren was skulking around the back of the room until he came face-to-mask with the Knight. Hux stopped and seemed to give Kylo an appraising once-over, head tilted to the side in consideration. Behind the safety of his mask Kylo’s face flushed.

Hux came to a decision. “With me, Ren. I need your…” he gestured to the Knight, “…you.” With that cryptic statement Hux continued off the Bridge.

 


	7. Mitaka's Homework

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mitaka completes his first piece of homework for TASKFORCE 0-12...

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I watched TFA and accidentally fell into Kylux! Kudos or comment if you'd like!


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